


Rifthold High

by highladyofthedawncourt



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossover, Multi, i am trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highladyofthedawncourt/pseuds/highladyofthedawncourt
Summary: Modern-day Human!AU set in the most prestigious private school in Erilea, Rifthold High. Drama, friendship, romance and self-discovery ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think <3 your comments mean a lot to me, and I love you.

Aelin sighed and tucked a lock of her golden-blonde hair behind her ear. She took one last look at herself in the mirror - perfectly winged eyeliner to make her turquoise-and-gold eyes pop, subtle rosy lip gloss to enhance the appearance of her naturally full, soft lips - and an ugly school uniform.

Well, she’d done her best with the uniform.

She’d tucked the white shirt into the pleated navy skirt, and left the top few buttons open. She got a blazer that was a few sizes too large, kinda going for a trendy, oversized look. She liked it. White converse that she wasn’t quite sure were actually allowed, but what did she care? She wasn’t exactly going to be trying very hard to stay here.

Here. Rifthold High. The most prestigious private school in the whole continent, in Adarlan. Aelin hated Adarlan, with its plastic-smelling air and garish-looking cities overstuffed with obnoxious, conceited people and their haughty accents. She missed Terrasen, the rolling fields and hills and open skies, so much it fucking hurt.

But she had promised her parents, not long before they died, that she would go to the school they had loved, the school they had met in.

So here she was.

Aelin checked her timetable. Her first class, Erliean Literature, had begun six minutes ago. The secretary had told her it was in room 52. She looked at the door of the nearest classroom, from which she could hear students roaring with laughter . 12. Fuck, 52 was far away.

It took Aelin almost ten minutes to find room 52 (after accidentally entering 48, somehow), and the class was well under way by the time she stumbled through the door, a little red-faced from speedwalking, a little red-faced from the recent embarassment of joining the wrong class.

The professor, a rough-hewn woman who looked to be about 50, cast her a skeptical look.

“Um, I’m Aelin Galathynius. Sorry I’m late. It’s my first day and I got lost.”

“Hmm... I’ll let you away with it this time, Miss Galathynius. Find a seat, and don’t disturb my class again.”

Jeez, that was a bit rude. Aelin turned to survey the class and find a good seat.

Fuck. Were all the students here underwear models or something? Shit, this was a good-looking bunch of kids.

But damn, she could pick out the hottest straight away. A tall, lean boy with thick black hair that curled alarmingly sexily at his neck, a jawline that could cut diamond, and eyes - fuck, his eyes - as blue as the sky in Terrasen. She took a seat next to him. Might as well have some fun while she was here.

He looked her up and down, not briefly, then met her eyes and smirked.

“Dorian,” he whispered, subtly extending a hand under the desk. She took it and shook it. “Dorian Havilliard.”

Aelin’s hand froze in place, and she could have bet her heart did too. Dorian Havilliard.

Havilliard.

The President’s son.

Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Aelin swallowed, her heart racing as fast as the wind. She had been chatting and flirting with the son of the President, who had been her parent’s long-time rival. Although their deaths had been declared suicides, she (and most of Erilea) had an inkling that this was not quite the case, and President Havilliard had something to do with it.

She straightened, and withdrew her hand from his. Dorian looked confused. He would understand in a second.

“I’m Aelin Ashryver Galathynius”.

Dorian’s eyes flew wide, and his mouth parted slightly.

“Shit. Aelin, I”-

“Don’t even say it. I don’t care,” she snapped, moving as far away as she could from the boy.

“Aelin, please listen”-

“Don’t wanna hear it!” She sing-songed, dramatically shoving her perfectly-manicured fingers into her over-pierced ears.

“I ran away.” Dorian whispered.

Aelin slowly turned back to him. “What?” her heart was still beating so fast, and she could feel her blood boiling.

“I ran away from home. From... him. I hate him, Aelin, I swear on my life.” He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his long, perfect neck. Aelin sighed. She could tell from the flush on his high cheekbones, the tears lining his wide, blue eyes, the tremor in his voice and hands , that he really meant it. Or he was a very good actor, but that seemed highly unlikely.

She sighed again, and gave him a small, tentative smile. “Okay then , Dorian. I won’t kill you yet,” he recoiled a bit. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” She clarified. “Sins of the fathers, right?”

Dorian seemed to shake with relief. “Uh, yeah, Gods I’m so sorry”.

Aelin just gave him another meek smile and turned to her copybook. She would give him a chance , he seemed genuine. But he was still the son of her parents’ killer, and it would take time. But she was going to try.

After two more awkward classes of introductions and not-so-subtle murmurs at her name, Aelin was more than relieved when lunch finally came. She grabbed a tray in the canteen and fell in line for whatever it was they were serving. This place cost a goddamn fortune, it better be good!

Just then, a body hurtled into her side. She wobbled , but steadied herself before she could fall. Her accidental assailant was not so lucky, though.

Aelin chuckled as the most beautiful girl she had ever seen rose to her feet and looked at Aelin with an expression of pure apology and embarassment on her lovely face. She had glossy collarbone-length black hair, stunning upturned eyes the colour of summer grass, and such elegant bone structure with the cutest button nose. Not to mention full, round lips, boobs and butt. What was it with this fucking school only admitting supermodels??!

“Oh my god, I am so, so , sorry!” the girl gushed, raising one hand to her mouth and using the other to fix Aelin’s lapel. Aelin brushed her off with a laugh.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, don’t worry about it!” She assured the girl, lightly touching her shoulder. The girl took this as ample forgiveness.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before, are you new?” The girl asked.

Aelin smirked. “Are you asking me if I come here often?”

The girl laughed, the sound like liquid silver. She gave Aelin a mock wink and nudged her side. “Maaybe!”

Things were starting to look up. Aelin needed friends if she was going to make it through the year at Rifthold High.

“I’m Aelin,” she said with a broad, genuine smile, and extended a hand.

“Lysandra,” the girl beamed, equally as wide and real, and shook Aelin’s hand with gusto. “And over here is my girlfriend Nehemia, the stupid bitch who pushed me into you.” Lysandra waved a hand at - oh god, another fucking model. Aelin internally rolled her eyes and laughed.

Nehemia was a tall, willowy girl with an air of pure sophisticate and regality. She had creamy ebony skin, and eyes like sun-penetrated whiskey. Her beautiful face wore a warm, relaxed expression of peace and happiness, and her tightly-curled hair fell past her shoulders. The tips were decorated with little golden ornaments that tinkled when she moved to shake Aelin’s hand. She was the moon to Lysandra’s sun. Aelin could only feel burning happiness for these two girls who loved each other so much, and found such solace in each other. She would have that. One day.

“So , how long have you guys been going out?” she wondered aloud.

Lysandra answered eagerly. “ A year now. It’s a polyamorous relationship, actually. We have a boyfriend too. We’ve been going out with him for about... five months now, Mia?”

Nehemia nodded and hummed in agreement.

“He’s great, I can’t wait for you to- oh , here he is now!”

Lysandra extended a talon-tipped finger, pointing towards a fit, blond young man whi had just entered the canteen.

Aelin’s heart stopped.

Because that young man was half of the reason she came her.

Her mind was screaming, but out loud she just whispered, one breath out.

“Aedion”.


	3. Chapter 3

Aelin’s heart stopped, and plummeted through the floor.

Aedion.

She hadn’t seen her cousin in eight years, since the night her parents were murdered. And now here he was, no longer a little boy, but a big, muscular man. She supposed she had changed a lot too.

Lysandra and Nehemia were talking to her, but she couldn’t hear a word they were saying. All she could think was Aedion, Aedion, Aedion, his name resonating through her with every heartbeat. She wondered if he would recognise her.

Her question was answered when he stopped short about five feet away from her, and his jaw dropped to the floor. Along with the teetering pile of books he was holding.

Shit, what do I do, what do I do?

Aelin opened her mouth. She had to say something, anything - but there was nothing there. Before she could even attempt to croak out his name, her air was cut off as she was pulled into a cripplingly tight hug.

Everything was right in the world, Aelin thought, as she was wrapped in her cousin’s arms. She hugged him tightly back, and time seemed to slip away. Her eyes were filled with gold - not just his hair, so like hers, but just blinding happiness. At some point, both of them had started sobbing, she didn’t know who first, but here they were - the dream team, reunited at last.

But then, the warmth snapped away, and Aelin was being held firmly at arms’ length by her cousin, whose brows had furrowed and whose lips had turned down.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he exclaimed, half laughing from relief, but angry that Aelin had never tried to make contact. She knew how he must feel, it wasn’t fair of her to ignore his existence for eight years, and then just barge into his school, casually chatting to his girlfriends. But there were reasons, reasons she had to explain. But now was not the time, and here was most definitely not the place.

Aelin stood on her tiptoes - fuck, when did he get so tall? - and whispered in his ear, “I have some explaining to do, I know, but please, Aedion, trust me. I’ll tell you it all when we have a lot of free time. Meet me tonight in the common room, and we can go somewhere more private to talk”. Aelin had never been more relieved in her life than she was the moment he gave her an understanding look and nod of the head.

She wrapped her arms around him once again, squeezing him bone-crushingly tight.

Aedion. Her cousin. He was here, in ber arms. For the first time in a long while, Aelin let out a genuine, happy laugh.

———————————————————

The rest of the day passed fairly easily, Aelin became acquainted with a few new people, all of whom seemed exceptionally nice.

In history, she’d met a vibrant, charismatic blonde girl with stunning brown eyes and one of the most beautiful faces Aelin had ever seen. Her name was Morrigan, “But please, call me Mor!”, and she was very smart and funny. Aelin could tell that she wanted to be great friends with Mor.

In geography, she’s spoken to Cassian, the class clown. He was playful and flirtarious in a way that wasn’t creepy, just friendly. He shared Aelin’s quick wit, and the two quickly became the source of the teacher’s woes.

In art class, she’d sat beside an incredibly shy girl named Feyre, who didn’t say much but produced the most incredible artwork. Aelin had gasped when she’d seen Feyre’s sketchbook, and tears had even filled her eyes as she looked at some of Feyre’s stunning nighttime city skylines. After that, Feyre seemed to gain a little more confidence, and they met again in English, where Feyre sat beside her boyfriend, Rhys. Aelin didn’t know why, but she felt very glad that Feyre had someone who adored her as much as Rhys did. (It was very obvious- Rhys could never seem to look away from her, his violet eyes always full of awe at anything she did). Aelin thought Feyre deserved that.

But then the last period arrived. PE. Aelin enjoyed sport, and she was pretty good at most. So she pulled on her PE gear, tied back her hair , and bounded into the gym alongside Lysandra.

But then she met him.

Rowan fucking Whitethorn.


	4. Chapter 4

Rowan fucking Whitethorn.

What a fucking tool.

Aelin had been minding her own business, jogging away on a treadmill - shit, this school was fancy - when an irritated voice from behind her had snapped , “Your time’s up.”

Aelin whipped her head around, and saw a boy with short white hair, piercing green eyes, tan skin, muscular build, tattoos ... wait, what? She was totally not checking this guy out. Nope. She was about to give this motherfucker hell for interrupting her workout.

“Uh, I don’t think so , sweetheart,” she chirped, and turned back to face the wall, only exaggerating her ponytail flip a tiny bit. She continued to jog, she had only just begun to break a sweat and she was actually really enjoying herself. She was -

Shit! Aelin braced her arms and steadied herself. The treadmill had just come to an extremely abrupt stop. Was it broken? That shouldn’t have happened. A few other students had gasped, some had inhaled sharp shits, and one or two had laughed.

Aelin looked around to see what the fuck was going on, when her eyes fell upon the white-haired bitch from earlier. He was leaning against the side wall, twirling something in his right hand. A wire - that fucking bastard - he had pulled her treadmill’s plug right out if the wall!

Seeing red, Aelin stormed over to him and seethed, “Do you realise you could have fucking killed me?!” She slapped the smirking dipshit sharply across the face.

“Hey! You!” Yelled the gym instructor, making her way towards Aelin. “Watch your language, and don’t you dare slap another student! Don’t you know that kind of behaviour isn’t tolerated at RH?” she bellowed.

“He pulled my plug! He could have killed me! He-“

“I don’t care what he did, you can’t hit other students! And don’t be so dramatic, he couldn’t have killed you!”

What the fuck was wrong with this bitch? Of course he could have killed her. If she was less talented and amazing than she was, which she wasn’t . That didn’t really make sense, but Aelin didn’t particularly care. All she cared about right now was vengeance.

She opened her mouth to scream back at the idiot of a teacher, but the bitch cut her off. “Detention in my office every day this week, for 2 hours after classes.”

“What?!” Aelin screamed. Two fucking hours? Was this bitch crazy? Was that even legal? She was so angry, she couldn’t find words, she was shaking with frustration -

“Welcome to Rifthold,” Rowan Whitethorn purred in her ear.

Aelin rushed back to her room after gym, and hastily changed into casual attire before heading off to detention, cursing that teacher under her breath. She pulled on a pair of very flattering skinny jeans , a tight, pale pink vee-neck t-shirt, and a pair of white converse.

It took her a long time to find the gym PE teacher’s room, navigating the hallways was very hard work because they all looked exactly the same - all the walls were painted duck-egg blue, and all the doors were navy. The same Rifthold High bunting hung along each wall.

She hoped there wouldn’t be any other students there, and that she wouldn’t be punished for being late. She eventually found the door, but her hopes fell when she saw that the room was already full of students. Holy shit, it was the first day! How strict was this school? Or how mischievous were its students?

In a shady corner at the back of the room, two girls sat side by side, whispering to each other. They had to be identical twins- they were both immensely beautiful, with creamy dark skin, long, luscious, raven-black hair and bottomless onyx eyes. They even wore similar clothes, all black and made of billowy chiffon.

A very pretty blonde girl wearing a blue headband was desperately vying for the attention of the boy beside her, who seemed more interested in stalking Feyre from art class’ instagram and brooding. Weird.

Aelin dropped down next to Mor and Cassian, relieved to see some familiar faces.

“Why am I not surprised?” she laughed. “What did ye do?”

Cassian opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead he doubled over, laughing uncontrollably. Everyone in the room gave him incredulous looks, but Mor just smiled and rolled her eyes, looking at him the way a mother looks at a son who is stupid but loveable. He’s such a cinnamon roll, Aelin thought to herself.

Right when Cassian appeared to be regaining composure, the PE teacher stormed into the classroom, and everybody fell deathly silent. She crossed to her desk in two long strides, leaving the door propped open on a heavy beanbag. Once she was seated in her worn-out swivel chair, she snapped her head towards the door , and barked a “Get in here!” to someone in the hallway.

Aelin wasn’t sure why, but she had a very bad feeling in her stomach.

Two seconds later, she couldn’t hold in her exasperated groan as Rowan Whitethorn sauntered in, an insufferable smirk on his stupidly pretty face.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: This is  
> NOT Doraelin!


End file.
